False Prophets
by micro.soutan
Summary: A woman, torn by the results of the Lions War, finds herself at a standstill while her friends struggle to figure out how to save her (Eventual Ramza/Agrais/Mustadio, slow burn romance)


**A/N: I'm really? Into the idea that I'm trying out here. It's a little rough (especially because I cannot spell Mustadio's name without butchering it horribly) but it'll get better probably! I hope you enjoy.**

The grasslands stretching across the entrance to Midnights Deep are quiet, windswept ruins is the camping grounds for his band of sell-swords and mercenaries. His friends. Tired from the journey, worn with the weight of the world, the grief of news just delivered, none could speak but the most vocal of them all. Agrais Oaks, hair of braided gold and eyes of fire, stared their unofficial leader down. The question asked made the mages and fighters among them gawk at her. To anyone else, such a soliloquy, the questioning of God, would be hearsay."Do you believe in a God, Ramza?"

But they saw the Lucavi. Ramza and Agrais both knew the destructive power of the Zodiac Stones they possessed, and the great lengths at which the church tried to seize them. Gods walked among them, and the best among them had seen and slain these deities with nothing but wit and bravery. Saint Ajora wasn't a saint, and nothing was holy. Even in the aftermath, where peace _should_ be the default, blood was shed yet again.

Ramza swallowed, fist clenched as the suns light beamed on his mithril. "I'm... I didn't _know_ , Agrais. None of us could have known that he would..." of course Ramza wouldn't have believed it. He knew Delita was vindictive now, saw the lengths that a commoner would go to further his agenda. But he never suspected that the fair-skinned lad could result to murder, of all things. Queen Ovelia Aktsha would never have hurt a fly directly. She was virtually a woman of virtue, raised in a _monastery_ for christ sakes! What would incite any form of violence against her for anything but her title?

But maybe that was it. Purity tainted by the throne, cursed to this fate by her birth, just as Delita despised his faith, and defied what would be his birthright. A commoner, a noble knight at best, and a dead heretic at worst. No one could have known, but they still should have been _there._

"I... I should have been with her." she's quaking lightly because too many have been lost and there are tears on her freckled cheeks, but no one dares to move. Midlight's Deep changed them, even with the power of the Zodiac, nearly _killed_ them. To narrowly escape death, just to return home and hear of another soul slain and another catastrophe on the horizon, it might have been too much for her.

"It's not your fault, Ari." Mustadio speaks up because of them all, the mechanics the only one who could get away with it. He doesn't hug her, but a firm hand to palduron to remind her that she isn't alone in this. "We couldn't have done a thing. Nearly explored that damned cavern for 3 years, and if it weren't for you being there with us, we would have all -" he's cut off by the sharp turn of Agrais snapping on him, whirling around with broadsword drawn and eye furious with unkindled rage.

"She would have _lived_ had I been there! I'd rather you, this blasted band, and the entire world _rot_ , than to have this happen." she doesn't advance, but the longer ranged combatants are already prepared to stop her if. Their chief mages, Octavia and Matinee are both standing behind the broad shouldered Ramza and his band consisting of a geomancer, a monk, and a samurai. Their staves are drawn and eyes are ready for any kind of action.

The journey had changed them all. Midlights Deep, a location hidden in the far corners of Ivalice, was a place of legends. It was said that the strongest man to survive the last war, Thunder Lord Cid had trained there. He had explained that time works differently in the twisted caverns, and that it was seemingly endless. But the fae and beasts of the land seemed to know, whispered, of great treasures hidden on the final floor.

Agrais was older now. Stronger, still. Her once shoulder length braid had been lopped in battle, and was now a neck-length cut, with bangs styled out rather well for a place without amenities. Across her right eye was a long, ugly beast of a scar, pink and fading still, and the organ was shut, utterly useless now. A close encounter with a master ronin had been the cause, and she narrowly escaped with her life after that. Her expression was no longer stale and neutral, that of a honorable knight of the throne, but the visage of a young woman, wronged and more than angry about it. There was a layer beneath her baby blues now, an unspoken instability that threatened to corrode her from the inside out.

"You're... you can't possibly mean that." Ramza is still the same old hopeful at heart, even if 3 years had been enough for his transition from rosy teen into a fair-armed man. "You're one of us, right?" there's a purity to his eyes that she can't spit upon. It was the same aspect that Ovelia and Alma had both possessed, the same charm that drew Ajora to using Ramza's baby sister as a host. His men are all looking at her, hopeful, scared that this fight would be the beginning to an end. She'd grown with these people, so of course they worried for her well-being now.

She relented, sighing as she realized her position. Sheathing her mythril, she bowed her head slightly. "Forgive me for that... outburst." the former holy knight heaves a sigh, rubbing her temple in annoyance. "I just..." a sob is choked out, and tears threaten to overflow. She forces her face away from their wandering else, walking off to the distance, a sole tree in the clearing that would grant her the privacy to cry at least. This isn't a conversation for the entire group. No one knew, could have known, how she felt for Ovelia. It was unheard of, for a commoner to love someone of noble blood, especially between two girls. But this was love, an adoration that would follow Agrais to her own grave, now that she could never share her feelings for the Queen.

But they follow her anyways. The blonde haired, smooth talking mechanic is the first to step to the tree, urging the others to just set up camp for now as he talked to Agrais a bit. Things were still tense, but they all agreed thankfully. So he and Ramza followed their knight, and they'd follow her to the end of the world because more than the others, the three of them _knew_ the pain of loss. They didn't know the extent of her pain, but they'd offer her a shoulder regardless.

When they approach, her steel is already removed, in its place is a blue tunic, tightly knit, and the white cape signifying her status. A Captain, and one of the best. She'd return to her home with that as her proof, and her sword to protect her along the way. Her cheeks were puffy and eyes red, so she didn't look the part of strong, but there was a steady resolve to her, shoulders quaking slightly as the other boys approached.

"I do not think that I am fit to travel with you anymore, Ramza." She slowly stands, drying her tears with the back of a wrist. "I wish to return home, to visit her grave and offer my prayers, at the very least. Ajora may not watch over the departed, but I will honor her memory." she means this as truth, but knows that her prayers hold no weight. A knight no longer holy, a woman not so noble, from the pride of the Lionsguard to this, a mercenary, a lovelorn sell-sword.

"And then what? Will you mourn our friend in her home state until you're a corpse yourself?" Mustadio speaks what Ramza is thinking, and the brash quality of the question makes Ramza wince. Never one to cut corners, at least. "We _all_ miss her, Ari. It's painfully tragic, but that is the fate of a noble..." this time, when her sword is drawn, Ramza has the curiosity to draw his in response. He's agile enough now to parry the blow that wasn't actually going to _hit_ Mustadio, just scare him. And her eyes aren't wild in this moment, they're cold. Angry, like she's holding something back.

"Do _not_ speak of her like some corrupt pig, and don't _ever_ talk to me about fate. We defied gods and you think fate has anything to do with it?!" she's livid and Ramza's strong arm isn't strong enough, if she really wanted to hurt anyone. Despite her anguish, she wouldn't hurt them.

Knowing this, her sword hand slackened, and she dropped the blade, kneeling against the tree and trying to reign in her sobs. "God, you don't even _know_ how much I loved that woman..."


End file.
